Twas the nizzle before Christmizzle, when all through the hizzle
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mizzle; fo shizzle
The fitteds were hung by the homies with care,
In hopes that St. Nizzle soon would be there;
The bitches and hoes were all snug in their beds,
While visions of bling-bling shined in their heads;
My bitch with her swag, and me in my do-rizzle,
Had just settled down for a long ass nizzle,
When out on the stoop some bitch came around,
I sprang from my crib, to knock this fool down.
Awizzle to the window I flew like the Flash,
Tore open this bullshit and threw out the trash.
The moon had her fine titties glistening on the snow
Damn son, now I gotta clean this up too, yo,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appizzle,
But a nice ass stretch, and eight fine ass hoes,
With a fly old pimp, steppin from the weed fog,
Woah, hold up nigga, mothafucka’s Snoop Dogg!
Faster than shots in a bar his homies they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
“Yo, Dasher, Pole Dancers- Prancer and Vixen!
Yo, come on, Comet, Cupid, Donna and Blitzen!
To the windows! to the walls!
Now run bitches! Run bitches! Goddamn y’all!”
He lit up that joint with a flick from his Bic,
You know he’s one to puff-puff good shit.
But I heard him shout, ‘fore he flew outta sizzle,
“Merry Christmizzle to all, and to all a good-nizzle.”